


Jeremy was a friend of mine.

by weeziewoo



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, Anorexic Jeremy, Boyf, Depressed Jeremy, Depression, Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Self-Harm, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, binging/purging, boyf riends - Freeform, chapter two is a boyf riends sick fic and I'm trash, ending divergent au, i'm trash, riends, sick, sick jeremy, the squips a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 01:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12973011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeziewoo/pseuds/weeziewoo
Summary: Jeremy’s SQUIP makes him depressed, it doesn’t allow him to eat most days, and slowly installs the idea that everything about Jeremy makes Jeremy want to die.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 10 points to whoever know what song and/or artist the title is based off of.

I stand silently in front of the mirror. I’m not wearing a shirt and my torso is on display. My ribs jut through my paper-thin skin, and my arms are covered in scars. He’s done this to me.  
“You know Jeremy, this is a big improvement.” He says, his loud voice echoing through my mind. I look into my own dull eyes, there’s tears dripping from them slowly.   
“Now repeat after me.” His voice comes again.  
“Everything about me makes me want to die.” I sigh.  
“Good. Keep it up and I might let you eat today.” He bites sarcastically.   
My stomach growls and I shake my head in disapproval, if I eat it’ll end up in a toilet later. I pull on a shirt and my body starts moving robotically towards the kitchen.   
“Purging seems like a good idea.” He giggles in my head. I make toast, he’s in control right now. He makes me eat it. I don’t want to…

Twenty minutes later I’m leaning over a toilet bowl, he’s controlling me again and my fingers are down my throat.   
“DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CALORIES WERE IN THOSE FOUR SLICES OF BREAD?” He barks.  
“Two hundred and twelve.” I cough out after another round of throwing up.   
“Good.” He says, I can almost see the smile on his face.   
“Now straighten yourself out and get to school.” He adds, I automatically stand up straight and flatten my shirt.  
My dad’s asleep on the couch, he’s a dead-beat drunk who doesn’t have a job. I grab my school bag from the floor and sling it over my shoulder. I walk to the bus stop, chest puffed and chin up. I climb onto the bus and pull my headphones over my ears. I dump my bag on the seat next to me, the ultimate ‘Fuck off’.   
The bus slowly fills up and someone motions for me to move my bag, I glare at them until they back off. The bus finally arrives at school and I push everyone ahead of me away so I can hop off.

Michael’s POV~~

I see Jeremy get off the bus, he hasn’t spoke to me since he got that SQUIP. He looks different. He’s starving it’s clear, and in the clear summer day you can see the marks lining his arms like soldiers at attention. He wouldn’t do these things to himself, would he? It must be the SQUIP. He looks more confident but always has a frown tugging at his lips. I don’t see him for the rest of the day… 

Jeremy’s POV~~

The school day passes away with no incident, I saw Michael when I got off the bus this morning. He looked like he was deep in thought and he told me not to talk to him anyway. I hop off the bus once more, at the end of my street.  
I unlock the door to the house where I lived, I refuse to call it a home. Dad’s still on the sofa, he might be dead, he may as well be. I toss my bag down onto the floor.  
“Hey dad, wake up.” I grumbled as I enter the lounge. He stinks of alcohol, I grimace. He’s still breathing, and I roll him into the recovery position just in case he’s sick. I exit the lounge and shut the door. Leaving him and his scent to fester.  
I move into the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water, I shuffle around the other glasses on the shelf until they’re in height order. I grab my water off the side and disappear into my room. My brain pounds behind my eyes so I grab a couple pain killers from my nightstand. I chase them down with the water and lay down on my bed.   
My eyes drift shut and I fall asleep. Only in my dreams does he manifest. He looks exactly like Keanu Reeves. And he spends my hours tormenting me. He flits around me with those pupiless black eyes of his, making comments about my posture and whatever else he can nit-pick. I absolutely hate it, but that’s my life after swallowing that god damn pill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy is sick. And is able to call Michael to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slowly becoming boyf riends fic. But I'm trash sooooo... Also follow my twitter @MntnDw_Red

When I wake up the next morning, I feel like for lack of a better word, death. So, I decide to take a rain check on school. He makes me have breakfast, but he sends me back to bed afterwards like a concerned parent. I officially get up an hour later and without any prompting, I toss up this morning’s breakfast into the toilet. I’m convinced I have a fever because I can see him, towering behind me.  
“This will not do, call that ‘Friend’ of yours and ask him to look after you.” He pesters from behind me. I do as I’m told and find Michael’s name in my contacts. I drop my phone next to the toilet and put it on loudspeaker.  
“Jeremy?” He asks, shocked.  
“Mikey, I need your help. M’sick.” I groan, leaning my forehead against the cold tile of the bathroom wall.  
“Okay, I’ll be over right away. Stay on the line with me. Okay?” He says, I’m surprised he didn’t say no, I’m an asshole.  
“Give me a rundown on how you’re feeling, have you had anything to eat? Anything to drink? Symptoms?” He rushes out. I hear him mumble ‘family emergency’ to the receptionist at school.  
“I just threw up my breakfast, I haven’t had anything to drink. I think I have a fever.” I list off, trying to remember all the shit he asked.  
“If you can move from where you are without being sick or anything, go get a drink. Preferably water.” Michael instructs. I nod even though he can’t see me. I grab my phone and walk downstairs quietly. I pour myself a glass of water and sit cross legged on the kitchen floor. I take a sip and wait for Michael to speak again.  
“I’m just turning onto your street, unlock the door.” He says. I get up and unlock the door, before sitting back on the kitchen floor.  
“Done.” I reply quietly. A few seconds later the call hangs up and Michael walks through the front door.  
“Jere?” He asks.  
“Kitchen.” I groan in response.

Michael’s POV~~

He’s sat on the kitchen floor and he looks like death. He’s clutching the glass of water in his hand like it’s his life line.   
“Come on Jere, let’s get you back upstairs.” I smile offering him a hand. He takes it and I pull him up softly. I escort him back upstairs and into his room. He sits on his bed and I sit on his desk chair.   
“Would you like anything to eat?” I ask, it’s more of an eat now or I’ll kill you.  
He nods slowly after a minute of thinking. I go downstairs and grab a can of soup from the cupboard and pour it into a microwave safe dish. A few minutes later I carry the now cooked soup back upstairs to Jeremy.  
“I thought you hated me, you didn’t have to come help me.” He sighs as I hand him the soup.  
“Jere, I could never hate you. I know it’s that SQUIP that’s making you avoid me.” I told him, it was true. Jeremy was just lost.   
Jeremy taps something against his bedside table, I’m a little rusty at Morse code, but we did get taught it in 6th grade. Jeremy sits up straight, and groans as if he’s being electrocuted. And I figure out what he tapped.   
‘Mntndw Red’   
“It gets rid of the SQUIP.” He breathes out heavily, that shock clearly hurt, and the SQUIP delivers another.   
“I have some at my house. Get dressed and I’ll walk you there.” I say, whilst tossing clothes at him. I turn away as he changes. It’s part of the bro-code I guess. Never look at each other when you change. We walked down to the front door and he pulled on his shoes.   
He was boiling, and I’m sure he still had a fever but I could get him back to mine. My mother greeted me.  
“You’re home early.” She says.  
“Jeremy wasn’t feeling well. I couldn’t take care of him by myself, and his dads. *ahem* at work.” I reply calmly.   
“Okay sweetheart, call if you need anything.” My mom calls as we climb upstairs. I basically pour the mountain dew down his throat. It was discontinued in the 90’s so I can’t imagine it tasted that good. He coughed and started twitching. He passed out not soon after. He comes to after thirty minutes.  
“Oh god, Mikey? I have a killer headache.” He yawns.  
“Is the SQUIP gone?” I whisper.  
“I think so?” He replies…


End file.
